Musician's non-Life
by Supreme King of Awesome
Summary: A quick look into the mind of one sitarist.


**Well, I'm lacking inspiration. *thinks about the weather.* Oh, my, cheesecake.**

It was very humid in the castle, unusual given the routinely chilly air wafting from Vexen's lab. In spite of these conditions, there was no talk of it, in fact there was very little talk at all. All residents of the for once quiet domain were a bit off put. For today, Xaldin didn't bother slinking off to the Beasts Castle, Marluxia was too lazy to tend his garden, Luxord wasn't making his usual gambles against the fabric of reality, and Lexeaus even abstained from lifting weights. None of the members were doing their usual shirking of the responsibilities, instead just being all around lazy. All with the exclusion of Vexen that is, seeing as how the scientist was currently operating on Saix. Never before has a subject that has suffered damage that was not strictly corporeal been recovered, in one piece anyway. All others have that unhealthy habit of releasing the metaphysical manifestation of a sentient mind and dissipating into black smoke. Someone in the Grey Area wondered aloud why a potion wasn't used. Someone replied that they overheard Xemnas order that the recovery was done by conventional means. Then there was more silence. Almost.

_Pit… Pit… Pit-pat… Pitter-patter-pitter-patter._

Luxord, staring off into nothing said in a drowsy drawl, "on top of it all, why must it rain?" The look on his face could have melted even Vexen's icy stare.

Xaldin looked up from the couch opposite Luxord's. "You sound sad."

"Don't be ridiculous," the opposite spoke with a scoff.

All other members simply ignored their banter and continued the silence.

Empty. That was the word that best described the atmosphere of the castle. It was amazing that anyone could tell the difference, what with the Castle That Never Was being at least ten times the size needed to cater fourteen human sized existences.

It seemed that there was something missing, or more accurately, _two nothings_. It was as if the castle knew what was right and wrong, and its inhabitants picked up on its disposition, which was to say nothing of the disposition of a few certain husks. One of said husks was standing in the corner, looking out of the floor to ceiling windows and boiling the air around him, making his immediate vicinity hazardous to anyone foolish enough to approach. The man's face was a mix of supposedly unfelt emotions, pain, rage, sadness, all swirling in the melting pot that was Axel. No one tried to reason with him to stop making the room a danger zone, they all understood. One of his two best friends had died just hours ago, slain by his _other_ best friend who was now AWOL and officially on the shoot on sight list. Not that anyone but the gunman would even _dare_ to attack him after he incapacitated Saix of all people, but I digress.

Those who were beginning to worry that Axel would melt the windows with his stare were soon comforted when they heard the strings in a familiar instrument. Demyx would surely douse him with a few plucks of his sitar. This reassurance was taken back, however, when the shallow tones began to move in the other direction.

Demyx was one of the most complex people you would ever meet. He hides his true thoughts and feigns being oblivious, when he was the one who knew the truth all along. They were not just hollow shells, destined to an eternity of emotionless existence. He was at first uncertain, but he was now sure that every once in a yellow moon, he would feel something, a bump in his chest. The more he watched Roxas, the more he came to realize that it was extended interaction with him that was causing his heart to be reborn. Then he went through a selfish streak, began convincing Saix to assign him more missions with Roxas. Maybe if his heart came back, he would stop being such a freak. He stopped his walk at a window and looked down into the city. It was a barely kept secret that after Xemnas, Demyx was the Organization's most powerful. Sure, he couldn't create storms, Larxene had that corner covered. And maybe it wasn't within his power to ignite the very molecules that make up living things.

But all one had to do was look outside.

Returning emotions was part of the territory when dealing with Roxas. Through this contact, Demyx regained the feeling needed to actually enjoy his music. He also regained sadness. Demyx was sad. Sure, it was a bit of a downer that Roxas killed Xion, but then he just up and left, not once considering that anyone could possibly want him to stay. Demyx did. He didn't just want it, he _needed_ it. It was different before Roxas showed up. All Demyx had left were memories of being able to feel, and that was enough. It hadn't really occurred to him that he might be missing something until he began to regain his emotions. Now? Now he only had two emotions and he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something horribly _wrong_ with him. He felt incomplete, that he was a puzzle that was missing eighty or so pieces. Roxas was gone and now all of this pain that came to light when Demyx's hopes were crushed. There was nothing left but the tears that wouldn't come.

That was what made Demyx stand out, even amongst the other empty shells. They could cry. You would think that being an avatar of water would enable him to produce tears. But no, he wasn't that fortunate. As soon as he became what he was, his tears were replaced by rainfall, his sobs unseen.

Water is the life of all living things. Anything, any_body_ made even partially from water was in his domain, under his masterful hands. Boiling blood, hydro kinesis, even molecular separation all are within his abilities, just because of what he is. Then notice how all of the castles inhabitants are made of water.

He also knew where Roxas was. His consciousness extended across all things that the rain touched. He could go out and try to take Roxas himself, and he would have, but he had no way of knowing whether or not he or his target would land the first strike, and that would be all it would come down to. The odds were not in his favor.

He turned away from the window and stalked to his room. Roxas was nothing anymore, nothing but a traitor. He only had one hope now. That Sora would return.

And with any luck, he would be friendly.

**Ever hear of a "floating timeline?" It is when certain events are happening at the same time or are completely disregarded in a certain continuity or continuities, sometimes because of retcon. The term can also be used to explain how characters in a story never age, even though it has been explained that time has passed. It is the same principle my story Heartless Wretch is built upon. The reason for the CO team remaining alive is the same and Xion was killed earlier that day. Thanks for reading and please leave a review.**

**Supreme King is out.**


End file.
